A direct link to the pdf is here.
The file is hosted on the page of an ongoing project that came out of the Meetup that we encourage everyone to enjoy and potentially contribute to. The project, currents against us, aims to document what adventures and projects we find ourselves in with hopes that it will generate more sub-culture around our efforts and therefore more community:
currents against us
The pdf contains pictures as well. The text is as follows:
For No One Else Will Bother
-a report back and reflection on the 2012 DIY Sailboat
Meetup in Rio Dulce, Guatemala.
This is my personal analysis as one of the organizers of
the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup. While it does talk about the happenings of the event,
I focus more on the larger context of where the energy for the meetup came from
and where it’s going. For a play-by-play on the meetup itself, I’d suggest
looking at the schedule and imagining every event going amazingly well and
full of wonderful people.
There’s nothing quite as beautiful
to a sailor as a properly trimmed sailing vessel making way through the water. Sailboats
often represent escape from our current conditions, alluding to a life that we
romanticize to be simpler and more free. We’re captivated by the idea of freedom
of movement gifted by the simple forces of wind and tide; carrying us to lands
yet undiscovered, or perhaps just a departure from whatever dismal routine we
feel trapped in. With every square inch of land divvyed up and sold, many of us
struggle to live in the margins. The sea provides a frontier where we can
attempt to carve out a space for ourselves, our sailing vessels the flagships
of this imperative.
While
the joy of your vessel aptly sailing through the seas often fills your heart
with a deep joy, many an eye fixed on the horizon has watered up to the sight
of a fleet of vessels under sail. I have a very distinct memory of looking
astern while sailing under the bridge connecting Rellenos to Fronteras on the
Rio Dulce to see a small fleet of vessels under sail. This rag-tag armada was
composed of a myriad of sailboats: a beautiful black and red steel junk-rigged
schooner, a home-made outrigger sailing proa, a 53’ A-framed staysail schooner,
and of course the slew of plastic sloop-rigged sailboats. Seeing a boat under
sail always gets my attention. It’s a common sentiment amongst sailors that the
auxiliary component of sailboats has switched from the engine to the sailing
rig. Case in point being although Rio Dulce is one of the largest cruiser
havens in the Caribbean, seeing a vessel under sail there is a rarity. Although
many of us can offer reason after reason that sailing a boat is more efficient
than motoring one, in reality it’s more work in the immediate and, considering
the size of engines in boats nowadays, slower in most conditions. I stand by the
fact that a large element of the motivation to sail is that it’s fulfilling,
and fun. I can, and often, go sailing in protected waters and see vessels under
sail abound. It’s wonderful, many of us sail in these places for that beauty.
Although only the rarest of sailing vessels pass by an old salt without a
glancing criticism (under-canvassed, ridiculous hull design, poorly trimmed,
etc.), many of us do want to be around other sailboats under sail, and
therefore other sailors. Seeing this fleet astern gave me that satisfaction,
but what made it special was that all of them came here to meet each other and
sail together. We all traveled multiple hundreds of miles from ports far and
wide to take a small portion of the water for ourselves temporarily. Many folks
traveled to Rio Dulce by land, romanced by the myths of sailing and what
escaping to the water could mean for them. To finally, after years of living on
my boat and sailing around, meet other sailors that had the hint of a similar
dream as myself and came from a relatable cultural place was unprecedented, and
incredibly special.
This
was the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup. Debatably one of the least creatively named
events in history, it started as a call out for ourselves, our friends, and
like-minded individuals to come together for a week in Rio Dulce, Guatemala,
and see what could happen. In the beginning, that was one of the most exciting
aspects: we didn’t know what the event would look like. In the months following
the announcement of “the meetup,” people communicated their thoughts and
desires for it online and with their friends. It was taking shape as a mostly
educational event where we would share our knowledge and skills with each
other, adventures shoved in the margins. More and more people started signing
up to go and expressing their interest in attending, definitely more people
than we originally thought would be interested. One of the first visions of the
event was us boat-owners sitting around fixing up our old broken boats
together. While this looked like a great event, it was becoming apparent that
sailing was interesting enough for many other people to travel all the way to
Guatemala to pursue. Although I never consider enthusiasm online as a reliable
representation of what something will look like in reality, it was looking bigger
than we first predicted.
The
organizers and a gaggle of attendees scrambled down the Caribbean and were all
present in Rio Dulce by the beginning of February. Having the organizers
together and in the place where the event was going to be held caused the
logistics to come together quickly. A schedule with events, workshops,
presentations, and most importantly bottom-liners, barely beat the date set for
the meetup to begin. The day or two before things started we questioned if
anyone would actually show up, if the meetup would just be us and one or two
punks. That would have been fine, but what was even better was that on the
starting date seven vessels and around fifty people were in attendance. One of
the venues, at first very hesitant to work with us fearing the event wouldn’t
manifest into anything, threw us a party with snacks and a hand-made banner
that night. For the organizers it was overwhelming, we had talked about this
happening since we met. We were surrounded by people who did, or were
interested in, the thing we had been doing for years. There was a lot of energy
and excitement abound, the meetup was happening.
Since
the whole focus of the meetup was the beauty of sail, we started things with
the fleet setting sail. Once the wind filled in, all vessels, filled with
attendees, cruised to the mouth of Lago Izabel, Gautemala’s largest lake and a
fantastic site to learn the ropes. Seeing all that canvas full of wind was a beautiful
to site to all sailors present. For the boat owners, getting to share our
vessels and experience was very rewarding. Often we get stuck on our little
boats tinkering away for eternity, forgetting that the whole reason we have
these things is to go sailing. Other people’s enthusiasm and interest was
invigorating, making friends along the way was a wonderful reward. Afterwards
we told stories of voyages past, most of them riddled with broken boats and us
rookie sailors working through complicated situations we weren’t yet equipped
to handle. The week was full of workshops where we shared the skills and
knowledge we had around the nautical arts and how they aligned with our lives.
We talked about weather, fishing, navigation, engines, how to get along in tiny
demanding floating spaces, women’s experiences with boats, what our politics
could look like at sea, and many other skills and issues. At night we played music,
danced, had formal dress-up parties, trivia, a limbo competition, and in
general celebrated and socialized. Throughout the meetup we went sailing, had
hands-on workshops on our boats, and at the end held a mini-regatta (complete
with awards ceremony). Although the week we set aside for the meetup felt like
a daunting length of time at first, it passed quickly and eventfully. While the happenings of the event were
informative, fun, and exciting it was, like always, the relationships formed
and connections made that were the most valuable. After all, the whole point of
the meetup was for us to get together. The events were just a structure for us
to interact in.
For
some context of where the whole meetup came from, when I was anchored in the
Bahamas several years prior I caught a glimpse of a group of people rowing
their dinghy. Constantly berated by the wake of passing outboard motors, rowing
a dinghy was something that we did that often separated us from other cruisers.
Upon closer inspection, the occupants rowing were geared in the traditional
garb of “my people”: black, dreadlocks, and patches. Despite that we were
dressed in our finest khakiflodge for ease of social movement, a friendship
was sparked that put the idea that other folks like ourselves could be out
there, searching for each other. The things that defined us and the nodes of
affinity that drew us together were both broadly emotional and incredibly sub-cultural.
Finding ourselves in our 30s and 20s we were younger than most cruisers, who average
a post-retirement age. We were poorer than most cruisers as well, having not
worked our whole lives in preparation for the departure of moving onto a
sailboat. Many of us have similar points of reference such as coming from, and
for some of us being over, punk and DIY subculture. Often we have suspicion,
and outright contempt, for hierarchy in all forms, especially the ones we find
ourselves at the brunt of. With a few years on the water behind me, I had met
some folks I could relate to but being that culturally I, and many of my peers,
come from such a specific and often rare-feeling social niche, I was still
yearning to find people I could have a deeper connection with. I had been
sailing the seas with my friends for a few years, I knew that other people were
out there who felt similar to me. We just needed to find each other.
There
are many ways to say it, but I wanted to meet the other punks, anarchists,
queers, and wingnuts that came from the same sub-cultures as me and were
interested in sailing. I’ve spent most of my life in those circles, I don’t
want to abandon them whenever I take a new path in life. A majority of the
sailing community I’ve met and I have fundamental differences in our ethics and
views. We can have relationships of convenience and help each other out, pass
the time here and there, but there’s little depth to those relationships. I,
and many others, wanted to find people we could connect with in a more real
way.
So the
punks kept in touch. We shared plans and spoke of how we wanted to get together
again. The oceans are large, and our boats slow, making these aspirations
difficult to achieve. We shared this desire to meet each other and the others
interested in life at sea. All of us had friends who were interested in
sailboats and had started taking steps towards moving onto the water; it felt
like there was some momentum happening. We messily slapped together a plan,
emphasizing that it needed to happen before we could even think of what it
would look like, and started promoting the DIY Sailboat Meetup. A lot of folks
came out of the woodwork and expressed excitement for this proposal, often
sharing that they too had thought to try to put something like it together,
which showcased how this need for community wasn’t just with the few of us who
were doing the organizing. The meetup brought this confusing idea into reality,
and gave us some context for what we actually had. There were more of us with
more energy and interest than we expected, quite the exciting reality to be
equipped with. When the meetup finished we all had a good feeling of what was
ahead, and that we had just found something special.
After
the event many people stayed in Rio Dulce. We rafted a bunch of the boats
together and had parties, went out sailing again, headed out on adventures. In
general we celebrated our friendships, new and old. People started departing
slowly, heading home or continuing traveling. Many of us set out to sea,
naturally. Some with cruisers from Rio Dulce, some with boats from the attending
fleet, and one bought a boat and sailed away with other attendees. Not so
secretly, that was one of my desired outcomes of the meetup: for folks there to
get a boat and sail away. On the last day of the event we debriefed and talked
about what we wanted to see in the future. There was a lot of energy and
momentum amongst us. We all expressed how the event was a success, surprisingly
without any disasters, and would like to see something like it again in the
future. We talked about how it could have been better, and took notes on
improvements to make if there was to be a next time. We shared contacts, and
again vowed to keep in touch.
It’s
almost been a year since the meetup. We’ve all had plenty of time to reflect on
it and see what the lasting effects of it were. One of the most obvious, and I
feel most positive, things that came from it were the relationships. A lot of
us since the meetup have traveled to spend time with each other. We’ve sailed
together and called on each other for crew and sailing opportunities. We’ve
gotten to tell our friends who couldn’t attend about it and spread the myth of
what it was like around our circles. Friendships were made, many of which we’ll
potentially keep forever. We attempted to stay in touch and carry the momentum
for the project through the internet in the form of a listserv. In the past,
this has always proven to be ineffective and an unoriginal way to kill the
energy for a project. This is true for this one as well, the listserv is mostly
dead although every once in a while there will be some exciting post about
someone getting a boat or helping others get on the water. There was a call-out
for submissions to write a report back from the meetup, which spurred
excitement and commitment originally, but didn’t showcase a single submission. The
event reflected that many of us came from DIY punk; it looked like many other
events of that era and from that ideology. This caused it to go smoothly
because we were working with what we knew, but at the same time we took the
potential for something we thought to be unprecedented and confined it into the
tired realms we’ve stagnated in. I think this was a failed opportunity for our
imaginations to really test themselves and make something more intentional that
directly catered to what we were looking for.
At the
surface the relationships we made were relationships of convenience. Just
because someone looks punk, is an anarchist, travels, or has any of the other sub-cultural
norms that brought us together doesn’t mean we’ll actually connect. As we
explored this sense of community with each other we found some relationships
that were worth keeping and ones that weren’t. I don’t want everyone to be
friends, but want to illustrate that when we’re drawn together from things as
shallow as sailing and DIY punk, for instance, we have a lot more to find if we
want to create real meaningful connections. Ultimately we all left and went
back to our lives, some having gained friends and experiences that they can
carry with them. For some of us it’ll have been a less cathartic Burning Man,
an escape from our usual routines and something we can talk about as “this
thing we did in our youth.” If the pinnacle of this energy we’re talking about
was the meetup, then the effort was a failure. Getting together once was just
saying hello, we have much more to explore from there. One of the successes of
the meetup was that many of us are still in close touch and are currently
sailing together. We’re working on writing projects, planning futures,
promoting each other’s endeavors, and getting more like-minded folks out on the
water. It feels like there’s more and more of us every time we look. With the
ubiquity of travelers romanced by the sea, it’s unlikely this is new or radical
at all. We just happen to now be privy to it, and perhaps usher people’s dreams
into reality a little more.
As we get to know each other, hopefully we’ll
make spaces that are more directly relating to what we want to find. Meetups
that are more specific to our needs and what we want out of community. For
myself I’d like to see something longer lasting, where we’re not all atomized
individuals fighting the same fight scattered around the world who see each
other on a rare occasion. A few of us are doing that in the way of traveling
together, but we’re still a tiny number of people on a tiny space surrounded by
an alienating and threatening world and culture. The water doesn’t feel as free
at it once did as we get to know it better. I still want to carve out a space
for ourselves, and figure out what that could look like. The meetup was done in
a way where the happening was emphasized, the content secondary. I think that’s
the perspective to start from if we want this to go places we find exciting, we
risk all the energy funneling into tried and defeated channels otherwise. The most
formidable enemy of what we can do is our fear of our imaginations.
currentsagainstus.wordpress.com
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